


Speak in Rounds

by SubwayWolf



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Dinner dates, First touches, Fondling Through Clothes, Foot Jobs, In Public, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf
Summary: Jesse joins Hanzo during meals in the mess hall despite not being invited. Hanzo has an interesting way of admiring McCree's audacity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> lol its the classic 'hanzo is cold and jesse tries flirting with him' fic you've probably read a million times, but really the shining star of this fic is the footjob, i promise. nobody remembers the plot anyway, right?
> 
> i hope you all enjoy. im open for prompts which cost $0 so if you have an idea, smutty or otherwise, hmu on twitter or tumblo

It was typical for Jesse to sit with Commanders Morrison and Reyes when lunch was served in the Watchpoint mess hall, but today he tried mixing it up a bit.

One of the Shimada brothers was sitting alone. Genji, the younger one, usually ate with that omnic he was so close with, but Hanzo typically sat by himself.

Jesse took a seat, said hello, and tried to make small talk, but he was shot down with brief words and mostly silence every time. When they had to report back to duty or training, Hanzo left without saying goodbye and Jesse thought he had done something wrong.

So he tried again. For all three meals of the day, even tea time, which Jesse usually skipped out on to take a nap. There was no clear change in their relationship even after almost a week, but Jesse did not let up; he was a pretty stubborn guy, so would take a lot for him to give up. 

It wasn’t that he was attracted to Hanzo. Well, he _was_ , but there were a great load of attractive people in Recall Overwatch. It’s just that Jesse has always felt some innate desire to warm up the ice cold. It was like playing a game, one that was tough to win. Hanzo did not meet him with much pushing back, but he wasn’t receptive, either. That made this kind of like a challenge, which naturally attracted Jesse more.

Today, Jesse would be challenged more than ever. He just didn’t know it yet.

Jesse wasn’t eating. He preferred breakfast to lunch and always had a huge meal to start the day, so he wasn’t hungry. Instead he observed Hanzo. 

Hanzo was talented at a lot of things, but the way he used chopsticks was just flawless and mesmerizing. Actually, watching him do anything with his hands and his lips very easily drew Jesse’s eye.

Hanzo must have noticed he was being stared at. He appeared more annoyed than uncomfortable. Jesse expected him to snap and ask what he was looking at, but he didn’t, so that was a step in the right direction, maybe. 

And then he spoke. A full sentence, an engaging question, for the first time since Jesse had began this routine.

“Do you know how to use these?” Hanzo gestured slightly with his chopsticks.

Jesse answered, “No,” even though the answer was yes, partially. He’d been able to use them before he lost his arm. He never had a reason to, but he could. But right now, the answer was no.

Hanzo returned to his lunch.

Jesse took off his hat to see him better. He had a mouthful of food but spoke anyway. “You could teach me.”

Hanzo’s eyes turned up again. They were locked onto Jesse’s mouth, to his smile. He paused a looked down again. “I’m afraid I am not a very good teacher.”

Something in Hanzo’s tone sounded sad, so Jesse kept smiling. He put his organic hand over his chest. “Cross my heart – I’d make an easy student.” He held the smile until it was clear Hanzo was not going to look at him. The smile fell and so did his hand.

It was a sweet attempt at conversation, but Jesse could barely tell whether Hanzo asked it out of genuine interest or if the awkward silence was bothering him too. Either way, he continued to eat his meal, slowly and meticulously. 

The mess hall was clearing out. Not everyone showed up for lunch, because they might be off-site or in the middle of training, so the hall was at its fullest for dinner. Even breakfast did not see a very full house, for the little time people did spend there was to eat or have their coffee. They came in groups whenever they woke up, chatted, and left. 

Today, though… it was particularly empty. Just by their smell, Jesse knew that the Junkers were at a table across the room. He turned to see Ana and Reinhardt leaving together, and at a table in the back corner were Jamie and Mako. Mako was a slow eater, and Jamie had the metabolism of a caffeinated honeybee; he was sitting on the table next to the food, his feet on the bench where his friend was sitting properly, and he was talking the guy’s ear off. 

Jesse made a point to not eavesdrop on what he was saying, because it was probably weird nonsense, and make a conversation of his own. He leaned forward, placing both hands flat on the table. “What do I have to do to get your attention, Shimada?”

Hanzo didn’t even look at him. “That depends. What sort of attention are you seeking?”

It was like the man was setting him up. Jesse smirked. “I’ll give you one wild guess.”

But Hanzo didn’t guess. He was smart, so he probably knew the answer. Or maybe Jesse was just predictable.

Jesse’s eyes trailed down. They turned to the skin of Hanzo’s exposed arm, the beautiful, ornate dragon tattoo there. It looked almost real, with the way Hanzo’s muscles accentuated the curves and coils of the dragon. The color was vibrant and the detail was really spectacular. It really put Jesse’s tattoos, which he’d rather not talk about, to shame.

Jesse reached his hand out and touched Hanzo on the arm. “How long did this take?”

Hanzo reacted by flinching immediately. Jesse pulled away, and Hanzo looked a little ashamed at his recoil, but he didn’t say anything.

Jesse put his hand up dismissively, to show he was harmless. “Hey, man. You’re all tensed up. Just relax. I’m a friend.”

While Hanzo didn’t give any hint that he was okay with Jesse touching him again, he did make eye contact. Finally. Cold black eyes met warm brown ones, and it felt like the world shifted; or the cafeteria did, at least.

“Watch,” Hanzo ordered. Man of few words. 

It took Jesse a few seconds to realize he was being commanded to do something. This wasn’t anything he was unfamiliar with. He was just a little shocked because it felt like Hanzo _knew_ how much Jesse liked it.

Effortlessly, Hanzo used the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken from his meal. He held it in the air for Jesse to see, suspending it at the midpoint between their faces.

He started to inch it towards Jesse’s mouth. Jesse’s mouth opened as if on its own, his lips parting and his tongue sticking out a bit, ready to receive the food. Hanzo placed it in Jesse’s mouth, and Jesse could feel the wooden tips of the chopsticks on his tongue, flat against the taste of the meat. It was savory, a bit salty, and it tasted good. 

Hanzo watched him chew and swallow. He looked a little sad. “I’m sorry that I’m not very personable. I do like you, I swear.” His eyes turned down. “I want to get closer to you.”

Jesse’s heart quickened. “Why don’t you feed me again?” he suggested. “I really liked that.”

Hanzo folded his arms and looked away, blushing. That’s when Jesse felt the tease of Hanzo’s foot up the inside of his calf, slowly brushing upwards.

Jesse flushed. “Oh,” he mumbled, “That’s nice, too.”

The positive affirmation was enough. Hanzo didn’t stop.

He lead the top of his foot up Jesse’s leg, and then brushed up the inside of his thigh. He was gentle and slow, getting closer to where he needed to be, all while keeping direct eye contact with Jesse, unfaltering.

The prosthetics were made of lightweight metal. They were cold; Jesse could feel them even through his clothes, but also delicate, and Hanzo had a great deal of precise control over the way his feet and toes moved over the growing bulge in Jesse’s lap.

Jesse had always been sensitive. It was embarrassingly easy to get him excited. He thought that it was puberty’s fault, but it lasted way into his teen years, where someone with tight pants brushing against him in the hallway might force him to rush to the bathroom until he calmed down. He was still that way during his time in the Deadlock gang, and those men knew how to exploit that weakness. In Overwatch and Blackwatch, sometimes a firm scolding by Commander Reyes, or the way he might put his hands on Jesse to teach him proper fighting form, that would get Jesse worked up, too. And if Reyes ever noticed, he didn’t say anything. Looking back on it, there couldn’t have been any way that he _didn’t_ notice, because Jesse was, even objectively, a well-hung man, and it was difficult if not impossible to hide an erection.

It was the same even now. Jesse cursed himself for wearing jeans; a quick brush of his hand over his lap felt his cock, slipped past the elastic of his underwear, growing thick down his pant leg, his heavy sack filling up the rest.

Hanzo could feel it, too. He was a miracle worker and _so_ talented, his toes curling and the flat of his foot grazing down the length of Jesse’s dick in a firm stroking motion. He even nudged Jesse’s balls lightly with his toes, causing him to flinch, but Jesse could feel a throbbing pulse run through his hard cock even from that.

Jesse could already feel his head spinning. There’s no way that this would work this fast, if at all. His face was badly flushed, his body heat raising dramatically. He could feel his underarms starting to sweat. 

“Do you like this?” Hanzo asked despite the answer being obvious. God, those eyes… they couldn’t look away from each other. Hanzo was getting some mix of pleasure and amusement by watching the helplessness in Jesse’s expression.

“Yeah,” Jesse whined, his voice coming out weak and frail. “God, please don’t stop.”

Jesse’s hands shot down to his pants, where they trembled as he attempted to unbuckle his belt. It was an unnecessarily difficult struggle he would not have to endure if he could think straight, or if he was given a little warning that this was going to happen. 

The slimness of Hanzo’s prosthetics made it easy for him to maneuver around and under Jesse’s dick, which was still trapped down the pant leg of his jeans. Hanzo could do so much without even looking, it was so goddamn hot.

Jesse couldn’t look at him anymore. He could feel his blush spread from his cheeks to his ears. He had to close his eyes and breathe, but it all came out staggered. “Please,” he begged again. “Don’t stop. Keep at it.”

“You want more?” Hanzo’s grey eyes burned into Jesse; he could feel it with his eyes closed.

“Yeah.” His stomach churned. “More. Please. I want more.”

Then, Jesse finally managed to undo his belt, and he frantically tried pushing his pants down, and he remembered – oh, _shit_ \- they weren’t alone. They’re in the cafeteria, and there are at least two other people here, not far away. He balls the waist of his jeans in his hands and keeps them at thigh-level, afraid to push them all the way down. He’s petrified that his Commanders will walk back in - or, god forbid, Ana or Reinhardt - and catch him _literally_ with his pants down.

His eyes shot open and he saw the Junkers are still there, chatting it up, and if they’ve noticed they haven’t said anything. Hanzo saw Jesse’s concerned and played it up. “You had better be quiet then,” he suggested. He sounded playful, if not amused. “And you’d better finish quick.”

That won’t be a problem. With the length he’s pulled down his pants, Jesse could give his cock some breathing space. Free from its restraint, it popped up on its own, and Hanzo was given more room to work. He added his other foot and began to stroke the cock effortlessly, with careful deliberation and subdued strength. He pulled at Jesse’s shaft with repeated movements of his feat, curling his metal toes around it. It wasn’t painful, surprisingly. It just felt really fucking good.

Jesse knew Hanzo was right and he knew also that he was really good, and that he couldn’t hold back anymore. He relaxed his body, and hormones took him over, spinning his head dizzy. His balls seized up against his body and he came, under the table, all over Hanzo’s feet and toes, some shooting up onto the underside of the cafeteria table, only to drip back down onto Jesse’s lap.

Satisfied with the finish, Hanzo took his feet down. Jesse scrambled to put himself back into his clothes before anyone can see. He was flushed even more than before, and now twice as embarrassed.

The sound of Jamie’s laugh filled the cafeteria, and Jesse looked up in horror to see him and his partner walking away. But Jamie laughed at everything, so it was possible he didn’t see what just happened. Right!?

Hanzo chuckled lightly. “Don’t be so ashamed, Jesse. It was good for me, too.” He assembled his finished meal and stood up to throw the remnants away, but stopped to give Jesse a calm smile. “You did a good job. You were nice and quiet for me… for once.”

Jesse stared up at him, mouth agape, dumbfounded. Hanzo was right. He had nothing to say.

Hanzo was still smiling as he walked away. “We should do this again some time.” He cleaned up his own mess, and left Jesse alone with his. But Jesse had a feeling that he wouldn't be on his own for long.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to add me on battlenet PC [SubwayWolf#1494](http://masteroverwatch.com/profile/pc/us/SubwayWolf-1494), i main junkrat in QP but zenny&lucio in comp (platinum rank ~2550). i can brawl too ;)


End file.
